


14 Days of February

by Toast_Senpai



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Babysitting, Blow Jobs, Bugs & Insects, Cats, Fishing, Fluff, Gen, Horses, M/M, Nail Polish, One Shot Collection, Religion, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9549779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toast_Senpai/pseuds/Toast_Senpai
Summary: A prompt a day for the first half of February.





	1. Finding a stray

**Author's Note:**

> Writeitinred and I came up with this little list of prompts because we enjoying forcing ourselves to write every day. If you’re curious about the list it’s [here.](http://hashbrownsenpai.tumblr.com/post/155855916940/fourteen-days-of-february-fun)  
> Prompt: Finding a stray/adopting an animal  
> I have this thing for Alex interacting with cats.

Alex sees it as he’s leaving for the office that Friday morning but thinks nothing more of the tiny cat. Sure, it’s quite cold out, but it probably belongs to one of the neighbors. He feels somewhat bad about leaving it. Yet he doesn’t approach it. The small ball of dark fur remains sitting with its paws tucked underneath it along the side of his house.

When he comes back later that night, it’s nowhere to be seen. Alex walks around the house just to make sure before he goes inside. It probably went back home, he thinks, though he doesn’t exactly approve of people letting their domestic animals run around freely when the temperatures are this low, especially when they are even lower in the evening.

The next morning he almost trips over it when he opens the front door. Alex stares down at it for a minute. He expects it to run as he crouches and reaches out, but it stays where it is. He touches the soft tabby patterned fur, just a light brush of his fingers down the black spine. Alex can feel every notch of bone. Its large green eyes stare up at him, and they take up most of the pointed face. The salmon colored nose looks quite dry. Alex tentatively taps his finger to it and confirms his thoughts.

“Do you want to come in?” he asks it, voice just a low mumble.

The kitten remains still and squints at him, so Alex carefully wraps his hands around it. He picks it up easily and it doesn’t struggle. He’s sure it won’t hurt to give it a can of tuna, to see if it will drink some of the juice. Its ribs are pronounced, and he wonders how old it is. Judging by the size it can’t be more than a couple months at most.

He sets it on the kitchen counter and searches for the can. He watches it out of the corner of his eye and he’s surprised when it sits calmly, its striped dark gray body rising and falling rapidly with its breaths. Alex finds the can, opens it, and puts its contents onto a plate. It’s set in front of the kitten, who doesn’t hesitate to start eating.

Alex takes out his phone and looks up the number of the local animal shelter. He calls to make sure no one has contacted them about a missing cat. When the worker tells him that none have been reported, he feels a little better. But as he pets the cat his mood dips. Now what is he going to do with it? It’s true that he can take it in and let someone else adopt it. He’s sure that someone would, since it’s so young. Lots of people want kittens.

Between the chewing he can hear a low rumble that must be the cat purring. Alex smiles and pets it again. He already has his geckos, he doesn’t really need any more pets. He takes a picture of it and uploads it to Facebook, asking if anyone is in need of a new kitten. If no one takes the bait, then he’ll probably eventually drop it off at the shelter.

For now though he doesn’t think it will hurt to take care of it for a little while, just to see if it can gain some weight back. He texts Trott and Ross, asking if they can come over. He doesn’t want to leave it unattended in the house if he’s going to go buy supplies. They agree to stop by, although Alex fails to tell them about the situation.

He’s sitting on the sofa with the kitten curled up in his lap when Ross and Trott come into the house. At first they don’t seem to notice the animal, but finally they do and they stare at it, silent. Alex gives his best shrug. They step over to him.

“Where’d you get it?” Trott asks.

“Just showed up.” Alex traces the M on its forehead with a fingertip. “I didn’t want to leave it out in the cold, so I brought it in and fed it.”

“Do you think it’s a stray?” Ross asks while Trott kneels on the floor in front of Alex so that he can get a better look.

“Most likely,” Alex says. He glances down at the sleeping ball for a moment before he raises his eyes to his friends. “So, can you watch it while I buy some proper food and a litter box?”

“You’re keeping it?” Trott grins. “I knew deep down you were a cat guy.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Here,” Alex says as he lifts the kitten up. “Feel how light it is. There’s practically nothing to it. I thought the right thing to do would be to help it out while seeing if there’s anyone I know that wants it.”

Trott takes the kitten and holds it up. “Yeah, it really is light.” Then Trott frowns. “We keep calling it an ‘it’. Didn’t you check its sex?”

“Um, no?” Alex doesn’t think it much matters. A cat is a cat.

Ross comes closer. “Go on, Trott, check.”

Trott clicks his tongue. “Why do I have to?”

“You’re the one who took interest first,” Ross reminds.

“Fine. Whatever.” Trott lifts the cat’s tail. “I think it’s a girl.”

“You _think_?” Alex laughs.

“Well it’s hard to tell with baby animals!”

“True,” Ross says. “For a week we thought Oscar was a girl.”

“I don’t think it’ll really care if we refer to it as he or she,” Alex says.

Trott and Ross nod. Then Trott holds the kitten up to Ross. “Want to hold her?”

Ross is still for a moment, but then he warily raises his hands. Trott waits until he has a secure grip before he lets go. Ross brings her to his chest.

“She’s purring,” he says with a smile.

“Good. So you’ll watch her for a little bit? It won’t take me long,” Alex says. Ross purses his lips. “Please?” he adds.

Ross sighs. “Fine. Trott, you’ll help me, right?”

“I was going to go with Alex. What? Don’t make that face. It’s not like it’s a baby.”

“It’s a _type_ of baby!”

Alex points at the sofa. “Just sit and watch some TV. I bet that she’ll just sleep in your lap. You can handle that, can’t you?”

“Ugh, all right, just hurry back.” Ross flops onto the sofa. “I’m not good with cats,” he mutters.

Alex and Trott drive to the nearest store that sells pet supplies. There aren’t that many options, but if they want a bigger store then they would have to travel much farther. To Alex, as long as it has the basics then he doesn’t mind.

Trott follows him to the aisle with the pet food and Alex scans the different types of cans.

“Do you know what brand is the best?” he asks Trott.

“Probably the one with the best ingredients?” He picks up a can and reads it. “Dang, there’s a lot of stuff in this that I’ve never heard of. It’s like one of those frozen dinners.”

“We should probably find something that’s for kittens.” Alex searches until he spots one that looks like it could work. He takes several cans, each a different flavor.

As he turns it around in his hand, Trott nudges his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow.

“Just admit it,” Trott says with a teasing smile, “you want to keep her.”

Alex doesn’t reply. He moves down the aisle and stops in front of the toys. There are feather wands and different packages of fake mice. He thinks that since the cat is a kitten, it will be much more energetic and more likely to play.

“Your silence is telling,” Trott sings.

Alex clenches his jaw shut and tries to ignore Trott. He shouldn’t have let his friend come with. He skips the toys for now and looks for the litter. He picks some expensive wood pellets at random and hands Trott a plastic pan. Then he sets the cans of food inside, lifts the bag, and makes for the check out.

The ride home is filled with a type of anxious silence that Alex realizes is his fault. But he’s internally debating the idea of having a new animal around. He had a cat when he was growing up, but has never kept one during his adult life. The geckos are his babies. They are easy to care for and unique. Ross is the one with the dogs and Trott seems more like a fish kind of guy (trout and catfish jokes aside). He’s sure there’s someone out there who really wants a kitten and he’d be happy to see her go to a good family.

Ross is in the same spot they left him, with the kitten exactly how she had been on Alex’s lap. While Alex sets up the litter box, Trott sits next to Ross.

“Smith should check out the comments on his Facebook post,” Trott says, phone in front of his face.

“Why?” Alex asks, dumping the pellets into the box.

“There’s an overwhelming majority of people telling you to keep her.”

“I can tell you’re lying.” Alex gives the box a shake to evenly spread the wood bits. Then he throws a pointed look at the two on the sofa.

Trott holds up his phone, as if Alex can read the small screen from so far away. “I’m not lying. You’ll just have to see them for yourself.”

“So what,” Alex says. He sets his hands on his hips. “Even if people are telling me to keep her, wouldn’t it be better if someone else took her?”

“Why?” Ross asks.

“Well, I’m not really at home much, for starters.”

“Cats aren’t like dogs, you don’t need to let them out.”

“Yeah, I know. But what about giving them attention?”

“Mate,” Trott cuts in, “cats practically sleep most of the day. I don’t think you being gone could matter much. You’re here in the evenings and early mornings, plus weekends. Your geckos aren’t crying because they miss you.”

“Lizards aren’t like cats,” Alex tries. “You can’t compare the two.”

“Maybe not, but a pet is a pet.” Trott sits back and crosses his arms. “If you don’t want her, just say so. We aren’t going to judge you for it.”

Alex squints at Trott. He doesn’t get why his friend is pushing his buttons so much all of a sudden. He can’t bring himself to say what he wants: that he wishes to be selfish and keep the stray kitten that showed up at his house.

“It’s not like that,” Alex finally gets out.

He drops his shoulders, stares at now awake cat on Ross’ lap. She yawns, then blinks, her eyes focusing on Alex. He wonders who she’ll grew up to be, what her personality will be like, her favorite type of food and places to nap, what her meow will sound like. All things that he won’t be able to experience if she goes to someone else.

She suddenly jumps from Ross and pads over to Alex. She rubs against his legs, her little tail straight up, shaking like a rattlesnake’s. She gives a squeaky mew, and Alex feels his chest swell. He reaches down and holds out his hand. She pushes her head against his fingers, her purr already loud.

Alex lets out a heavy sigh. He picks up the cat and holds her like he would a newborn baby. He stares down at her as he says, “Fine. I’ll keep her.”

“What are you gonna name her?” Trott asks.

Alex slides his fingers over her spotted, light gray belly. “I’ll come up with something eventually.”

“Want any suggestions?” Ross offers.

“Nope,” Alex says. He leans down and taps his nose to the kitten’s. “We’ll figure it out, won’t we?”

Trott smirks and leans close to Ross. “I knew he was a cat person,” he says quietly.

“I heard that.”

“Good.”


	2. Going to the dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Going to the dentist  
> Alex/Trott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An oral surgeon isn’t a dentist but I say eh, close enough for the purposes of fic.  
> 

“This here,” the dentist said, pointing at Alex’s x-ray, “is where your bottom wisdom teeth are starting to push into your molars.” The man traced his finger along the backlit image of Alex’s mouth.

Alex cursed his teeth. They had been so good up until now. He’d made it into his late twenties and thought he would be able to get out of having the useless things removed.

“So, they’re going to have to go. The top ones aren’t causing any problems now, but they may in the future. I’d suggest scheduling an appointment with an oral surgeon as soon as you can.”

“All right,” Alex sighed. It was annoying but something he was going to have to do.

After getting his teeth cleaned he returned to the office. Trott was there in their room getting a few things ready for the stream in a few hours.

“How was it?” Trott asked.

“All right, but I coulda done without being told I need my wisdom teeth ripped out.” Alex cracked open a bottle of water. “You’ve had yours out, yeah?”

“Yup, years ago.”

“Remember what it was like?”

Trott sat back in his chair. “Lots of soft food for a week or so.”

“Ugh, do you think I’ll be able to eat wings?”

Trott laughed. “Maybe with a fork? And really tiny pieces. Meat isn’t very hard, so you might be able to. Expect a lot of jello and mashed potatoes though. Oh, and soup of course.”

Alex frowned. He wasn’t the biggest fan of soup. He liked chewing his food. He sat in his computer chair and slumped forward. “They knock me out, yeah?”

“Well, that part’s optional. But I don’t know if you want to be awake when they have to surgically remove four teeth. It takes them a few hours.”

Alex winced. “Yeah… definitely going to be put under for that.”

“So when are you going?”

“The dentist said I need to go soon,” Alex said. He shrugged. “I guess I’ll give them a call and see when the earliest available date is.”

Trott hummed. “You’ll need someone to go with you.”

“Why?”

“To drive you back home after you wake up from the anesthetic. You’ll be too drowsy to drive yourself.”

“Ah. Right.” Alex tapped his fingers on his desk. “Man, it’s gonna suck.”

“Think of it as a type of alternative diet,” Trott said with a smile.

“Chris Trott, did you just insinuate that I’m fat?” Alex squinted at him from over top the barrier.

Trott rested his hand on his chest, face full of false shock. “Of course I didn’t, sunshine. I’m just thinking of your health. It would do you good to take a week off from red meat.”

Their room door suddenly opened and Ross came in holding up several brown paper bags. “Guess who brought burgers!”

Alex grinned. “That’s our boy Ross, always bringing home the goods. Thanks, mate.”

Trott rolled his eyes as Ross came over and handed each of them a bag. “Enjoy it while you can,” Trott said.

“Don’t try to threaten me,” was Alex’s reply.

“What’s up?” Ross asked, confused.

“Alex is getting his wisdom teeth out,” Trott supplied.

“Really? Well, have fun with that. It was a ball-ache when I went through it.”

“How come?” Alex promptly stuffed his mouth full of fries.

“Because I somehow got an infection and they had to be on antibiotics for longer. It hurt like hell too.”

“Cool,” Alex muttered, once again seeing no good side to having his teeth removed. Well, besides the whole it’ll save his mouth from getting wrecked. But still. Why did humans even have them in the first place if all they were there for was to cause problems? He wasn’t looking forward to it.

* * *

Several days later Alex was able to schedule a consultation, and then after that an appointment. Trott went with him when the day finally arrived, and when they pulled into a parking space Alex took a moment to gather himself. He undid his seatbelt but sat still, elbow propped on the edge of door.

“We have ten minutes,” Trott reminded him.

“I doubt they’ll take me back right away,” Alex said.

“Probably not, but it’s good to sign in ahead of time, just in case.”

Alex took his phone from his pocket and turned it off. Then he turned and looked at Trott. “You gonna be able to entertain yourself for a couple hours?”

Trott nodded. “I got my tablet, fully charged and loaded with a few movies. I’ll be fine.”

“All right. Let’s do this, I guess.”

Trott gave him a soft smile and patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. For you it’ll only feel like a couple minutes.”

They went inside. And it turned out that Trott was right. After they stuck the needle into Alex’s arm and he went to sleep, the next thing he knew he was slowly waking up, blinking bleary eyes against the harsh florescent lights.

The first thing he noticed was that his mouth was sore. The next was Trott sitting next to him.

“Trotty,” Alex attempted to say, but it barely came out. His throat was dry and stuffed with cotton.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” Trott said. “You’ve been done for about twenty minutes now. Thought you would have come out of it sooner. Must be tired.”

Alex just hummed. He still felt lethargic. One of the nurses came over to him and handed him a little envelope with his teeth in it (as if he really wanted to keep the little devils), then she explained a few important things that he didn’t pay much attention to, but it looked like Trott was listening, so he nodded along.

When he was finally released, Trott helped him out of the bed and to the car. While Trott buckled him in and went around to the driver’s side, Alex poked gently at his cheeks. Then he took out the bloodied cotton swabs and shoved them into his pocket.

“I really need some water,” Alex managed to say. He touched his lips. “I can’t feel these at all.”

“Yeah, it’ll take a while for the numbing to wear off.”

“Shit,” Alex said. Trott raised an eyebrow. “How’m I supposed to give blowjobs now?”

Trott stared at him for a moment before he laughed. “I guess you’ll just have until your mouth is healed. Good thing you gave me one last night, eh?”

Alex groaned, and he didn’t notice the saliva dripping down his chin until Trott pointed it out. Alex swallowed and wiped at his numb chin. It was frustrating not being able to feel.

“Let’s go get you some water.” Trott started up the car.

“And an ice lolly?”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to eat it?”

“Course,” Alex slurred. He was still feeling drowsy. It didn’t help that it was already nighttime.

As they drove to the nearest gas station, he let his eyes close and tried to remember if he had dreamed of anything while he was put under. Nothing came to memory. What he did remember was the nurse telling him to relax and think of something calming, like going on holiday. It sounded dumb to Alex, so he had ignored her. Moments later he had felt the fizzling out of his consciousness, only to wake up what felt like a minute later in a different room. His head felt swimmy and of course there was a dull pain in his mouth, along with the faint taste of blood.

Trott told him to wait in the car while he went in to buy the items. When he came back it was with a water bottle and a cherry-lime ice pop.

They sat in the empty parking lot as Alex tried to drink the water. He succeed for the most part, but spilled quite a bit down his front. Trott rummaged in the glove box for some napkins while Alex tore open the ice pop wrapper.

It was a bit awkward trying to get the flavored ice lined up with his mouth, but when he did the cold was soothing on the inside, and the taste helped. But he couldn’t really efficiently suck on the pop, so he had to stick to licking it. It melted quite fast and covered his hand.

Trott tried his best to help clean up, but he ran out of napkins and they were doing nothing to get rid of the stickiness anyways. The ice pop disappeared relatively fast at least, and Alex was sad that he couldn’t chew on the stick like he usually did.

“Do ya think,” Alex started, then paused to yawn, and that hurt like a bitch. “That kissing will still be possible?”

Trott huffed a laugh. “Well, I’m sure it’s possible, but not right now while your lips are numb and you’re all slobbery.”

“Hey, it’s fruity flavored slobber.” Alex undid his seatbelt and leaned over the center console.

Trott moved away from him, his back pressing against the door. “Uh-uh, get away. You won’t be able to even feel it.”

“Just give it a try, Trotty. Please?”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” Trott said, but he gave a quick peck to Alex’s mouth. “There, happy?”

Alex sat back, running his fingers over his lips again. Even smiling hurt. “Yeah, you’re right, I still can’t feel anything. Dammit.”

“It won’t last forever. We can try again tomorrow, though you should _really_ just let your mouth heal properly. Make sure to put in some new cotton once we get home.”

“Whatever you say, mom.” Alex redid his seatbelt and reclined the seat back. “I’m tired as fuck.”

“Then we’ll go. I can’t wait to make you a bunch of soft food.”

Alex grunted. “I might as well be eating fuckin’ baby food.”

“I could get you some of that instead if you’d like?” Trott asked.

“Don’t be an ass,” Alex warned.

“Whatever you say, big boy,” Trott teased.

Alex didn’t reply. He was going to make a threat, but realized that he couldn’t exactly use his usual ‘no blowjobs for you’ retort. He’d unfortunately have to behave somewhat for a few weeks. It was tragic, really, but at least he had Trott to take care of him.


	3. Priest AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Priest AU  
> Alex/Ross

Had it been any other time, Alex would have said no. But because one of Trott’s close friends had died in a car accident a few days ago, he made an exception. He hadn’t known the guy personally–had only seen him maybe a few times while he and Trott were growing up. Yet Trott had remained in contact with him and when he found out what had happened, it had hit Trott hard. Alex knew he wasn’t the best comforter in the world, though he was trying everything he could to help Trott out. And if that meant attending a few masses, then he would sit through them.

He knew Trott wasn’t religious, but wanted to go as a homage to his friend, who had been really big into Anglicanism. Alex thought it dumb, but he said nothing, as one does when their mate is grieving.

Yet, Alex still despised going to church. He and Trott had previously on many occasions talked about how being forced to go when they were younger had made them dislike it even more, not to mention that the school of their youth tried to strike the fear of God into them (unsuccessfully). The only times Alex ever even went into a church now was for weddings and funerals, and even for those it was uncomfortable.

He didn’t find solace in places of worship, though the architecture was often times impressive. The solemn sound of the organ always put him in a weird mood, something caught between being dejected and sleepy. He didn’t feel the same sort of comfort that others did.

The first time they went was on a wet afternoon. Alex held the umbrella above them as they walked to their nearest church that was roughly ten minutes away. There wasn’t much of a crowd, but the people in attendance were nearly all older folks. Once inside, he followed Trott to one of the middle pew rows. He would have preferred to sit in the back to make a quick exit when the hour-long session was finished.

Alex set the damp umbrella on the floor and shrugged off his raincoat. The church was too stuffy inside, and he guessed that the thermostat was set high to keep all the old people warm. He turned his phone on silent then sat, pressed against Trott’s side with his hands folded in his lap. He wondered if he should try to start a conversation with Trott, but the man had his arms crossed, staring straight ahead. Alex opened his mouth, but closed it. He faced forward as well.

At the front of the church was the priest in a white cassock and deep purple tippet. Alex guessed that he was somebody’s balding grandpa. Alex watched as the priest stood off to the side, conversing with one of the altar servers. Who managed to catch his eye though was the deacon, dressed almost identical to the priest except he was wearing a stole over his left shoulder. The man was clean shaven and young, probably around his own age, and undeniably attractive. If Trott was feeling better, Alex would have mentioned it.

The deacon’s hair was short and dark, and he was quite tall, a bit taller than the priest. He stood behind the altar with his hands clasped together. Alex looked directly at him, but he was too far away to know if he was making proper eye contact. There was a satisfying plainness to him, and Alex thought that he’d look even better with some facial hair.

The organ started up and the people went silent. Alex sighed. At least he’d have some mild form of entertainment during the hour.

And it turned out to be a real drag, but Alex didn’t suffer as much as he thought he would. Probably because he had his eyes glued to the deacon the entire time and was able to drown out the many holy songs and readings that the priest led. If asked, he couldn’t say what had even been discussed at the service. Something about Jesus, no doubt, and how he had died for everyone’s sins. He was sure he had heard the word sin said quite a few times.

There was a particular sin on his mind, all right.

Trott stood first, and Alex almost forgot the umbrella. They had to wait for the line of people ahead of them to pass before they could step into the aisle. They almost made it to the doors of the church, but the priest himself somehow had snuck up on them and greeted Trott.

“How have you been, Chris?” The man placed a large hand on Trott’s shoulder.

Trott forced a smile. “Hanging in there, Father.”

“It will no doubt take some time. It’s good to have you here.”

“Thank you,” Trott said politely.

Alex hoped the priest wouldn’t keep them for much longer. While they conversed, Alex turned and looked back towards the front of the church. The deacon was still there, busy cleaning up the altar. Alex wasn’t totally sure, but it seemed like the man stopped for a moment and stared back at him.

A tug on his sleeve signaled that it was time to go. It was still raining outside, though it had lightened considerably. Alex popped up the umbrella.

“You were awfully quiet back there,” Trott mentioned after they were out onto the sidewalk.

Alex shrugged. “I thought it would be rude to make crass remarks in front of a priest in a ‘house of God’.”

“Since when do you care where you make jokes or who hears them?”

“When I’m trying to behave like a good boy,” Alex said with a grin.

Trott scoffed, but it was lighthearted. “I’ll be okay, you know. And I promise not to drag you to too many services. I know how much you hate it.”

“I didn’t think you particularly liked it either.”

Trott hummed. He slowed their walk a fraction. “Surprisingly it helps a little bit. I mean, I still don’t believe in it completely, but there’s a certain comfort in thinking the dead aren’t just dead, or that they’re somehow looking over you. Kind of bullshit, but I blame it on selfishness, really.”

“You can be as selfish as you want,” Alex said. “Out of everyone I know, you’re the person who deserves it.” He doesn’t quite know where that came from, but Alex meant it. Trott had always been the one taking care of others, and it was time he put himself first.

“So, how did you manage to contain yourself for an hour?” Trott asked, switching topics.

Alex laughed. “Well, there was a certain deacon who was looking rather cute.”

“Deacon? Oh, him… really? I mean, I guess he has an agreeable face.”

Alex poked at Trott’s side. “Only agreeable? Dude’s hot. Wish I knew his name.”

“I think his last name is Hornby. He was at the funeral, don’t you remember?” Trott stepped around a rather large puddle.

“Mate, the last thing on my mind at a funeral is scoping out hotties. But now that you mention it, he is rather familiar.”

They came to a street crossing and had to wait for a few cars.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a Facebook page for the church. They might have a list of staff on there.”

“Trott, don’t tempt me,” Alex groaned. “I don’t need to be going after a deacon of all people.”

“Why not? They’re as fair game as anyone else,” Trott said.

When it was clear and they walked across to the other side. Their shared apartment was only a couple minutes away.

“I never thought I’d hear Trott tell me to try to get with a man of God. What is this world coming to?”

Trott knocked into his side with a laugh. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up. It wouldn’t hurt to do a little social media stalking, would it?”

“I guess not.”

“Besides,” Trott said. He stopped and looked at him. Alex raised an eyebrow. “I’ve known you for how many years now? Alex Smith would get off tremendously at the thought of snagging a deacon of all people. Probably has something to do with how he loves buggering so much.”

Alex snorted. “You’re one to talk!”

“Aye, laddy, but I think ye’d enjoy debauchin’ a religious man,” Trott said in his best Scottish accent.  

“It _does_ have a certain appeal to it, I suppose,” Alex agreed.

They made it to the apartment, and Trott unlocked it. Inside they removed their wet shoes and Alex hung up the umbrella. While Trott said he’d make dinner, Alex sat on the sofa with his laptop.

He thought Trott had a good point. What harm was there in a little digging?

* * *

Weirdly enough, going to church on Sunday became a regular thing for Alex and Trott. They even sat in front, where Alex could get a much better view of the deacon he was curious about. His internet searching had revealed only a very bare Facebook account with the name Ross Hornby, one that had all the security features enabled so he wasn’t able to see anything useful, which was a shame.

So he continued to go with Trott, and continued to focus his attention on the man who had a pair of very blue eyes and a smooth voice. Alex also liked watching his pale hands hold a bible as he stepped up to the center in front of the altar to read a passage.

But besides the open staring he did, Alex had no idea how one would approach the man. He _could_ possibly ask for more explanation about something covered during the service, but that felt a little too cliché, plus he would actually have to pay attention and retain information in order for that to work.

Alex decided to use a more silent approach. He didn’t know if it would be very successful, and maybe he would even come off as strange, but he wanted to give it a try.

When it was time to stand and exchange the peace, he purposely went out of his way to shake hands with deacon Hornby. Alex gave his best toothy grin and perhaps his “peace be with you” was a little more flirty than appropriate.

But Ross either didn’t notice or did a great job at hiding it, because his smile was wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His hand was warm and solid in Alex’s own, and just maybe he held it for a second longer than he should have. Alex was tempted to wink, but at the last minute he thought better of it. It might be too much to come off that strong.

The rest of the service he tried to think of a plan, but his mind was blanking. There wasn’t really any reason to make contact with a deacon unless he was having a wedding or something. This was turning out to be quite difficult. Alex wasn’t one for giving up, but the more he thought about it, the more the man seemed unobtainable.

He was reserved on the way back home, and Trott left him be.

A few hours later though, Trott gave him a grocery list and told him to go to Tesco. Alex went without a complaint, hoping that it would be a helpful distraction. He pushed the cart through the aisles and collected the items Trott wanted.

Because he was so focused on figuring out which meat was the better option, he didn’t notice the man standing next to him until he turned and bumped into him.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Alex apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” was an all too familiar voice.

Alex looked up, and it was deacon Hornby. Except his hair was gelled into short spikes and he wore jeans and a hoodie. Alex thought for a split second that this couldn’t be the same man, but he had stared for several weeks at those blue eyes and that plush, petal pink mouth, and they were indeed a clear match. And unless this was a twin he didn’t know about, Ross Hornby was indeed standing next to him with a package of sausages in his hand.

Alex briefly wondered if it was too inappropriate to make a dick joke.

“Didn’t we just see each other earlier?” Ross asked, face breaking into a light smile.

“Pretty sure we did,” Alex said. He cleared his head. He had been given the perfect opportunity. Here was Ross, out of the church setting and totally approachable. Alex wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. He pointed at the sausages. “Thinking about having breakfast for supper?”

Ross looked at them, then at Alex. “I wasn’t, but now that you mention it, I could do that. Most nights I don’t know what to make.”

“I have a roommate who does most of the cooking. Makes my life a little easier,” Alex said.

“That would be pretty convenient. Maybe I should think about getting one.”

It took every ounce of Alex’s willpower to keep the conversation clean and focused. It was becoming harder, what with Ross looking exactly like Alex’s type. Not that he wasn’t before, but seeing him in something other than a plain robe was fantastic.

“You live alone?” Alex asked, trying to remain casual. That was all right to ask, wasn’t it?

“Well, I have two dogs, but besides them, yes. I originally came to pick them up some food, but got a little sidetracked.”

Alex didn’t know if he was getting ahead of himself in thinking that Ross was implying something. “Sundays are a good day to shop. Most of the meat is on sale.”

“So I see,” Ross said.

They had a somewhat awkward staring contest, and Alex wondered if he should just jump the gun and go for it. He already knew that this man lived alone with his pets, and that was a pretty perfect set up if he was being honest with himself. He blinked a few times, mentally readying his proposal.

“I’ll see you next Sunday, then?” Ross asked.

Alex bit his tongue for a moment, then nodded. “Of course.”

Ross raised his hand in farewell before he turned and walked down the aisle. Alex watched him go, mildly angry at himself that he didn’t speak a moment sooner. But he took a deep breath and calmed himself. He knew things now. Important things. He could use this newly acquired information to start up a conversation next Sunday after the service, and that would definitely help him get closer to Ross Hornby.

They weren’t on the list, but Alex grabbed a package of sausages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being more so the beginning of something than a complete fic. I’ll probably continue it eventually. I like the idea of a shameless Alex going after a religious Ross.


	4. Playing with Legos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Playing with Legos  
> Alex and Trott  
> Teenager AU

Alex’s mother came to his room, cordless phone in hand. “It’s Chris,” she said with a smile, and held it out to him.

Alex launched off his bed and grabbed the phone. He waved a hand at her and she left him.

“What’s up?” Alex asked, not able to keep the eagerness out of his voice. He knew what the call was about. Trott had told him a week ago that he would phone on Friday in the afternoon once he knew for sure.

 _“She’s only letting me have one person over,”_ came Trott’s voice.

Alex paced back to his bed and sat on it. He curled his toes into the carpet. “And?”

_“And it was a tough pick…”_

“Trott, don’t be like that. It’s me, yeah? I’m invited?”

There was a dramatic pause on the other end. Alex held his breath. Trott _had_ to have picked him. They’d been friends since primary. No one was closer to Trott than he was.

 _“Of course it’s you,”_ Trott laughed.

“Then just say so next time!” Alex said in a rush and flopped back onto the mattress. He stared at the ceiling. There was a water stain that he could always count on being there. “So what time tomorrow?”

_“Noon. You can stay overnight too, if you want.”_

“All right, I’ll be there. I still have to wrap your present.” Alex had saved up his allowance for a couple months in order to buy Crash Nitro Kart along with a few packs of Pokémon cards. He knew Trott was going to like them.

_“What you get me? Can I have a hint?”_

“Nope!” Alex grinned. “You have to wait.”

 _“Fine.”_ There was some muffled talking. “ _Hey, I got to go.”_

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alex ended the call.

He didn’t know how he was going to sleep tonight. Trott’s birthday parties were always great. Well, going over to his house in general was always a fun time. He had a pretty nice TV, a PlayStation 2, and a really nice room filled with all sorts of games and action figures. He went over every chance he got, which in retrospect wasn’t that often because Trott’s mother was quite strict and didn’t like having people over. More times it was Trott coming to his house.

Alex pushed himself from the bed and went to return the phone to the kitchen. He had almost made it back to his room when his mother yelled at him to take a bath, and he reluctantly did so. Then he set to work on getting Trott’s gifts ready. He wasn’t that great at wrapping but he thought he did an okay job. Not like Trott would care, anyways.

Even though he was excited, as soon as his dad told him to go to sleep, he was out.

* * *

The next day, noon came around quickly and he was dropped off in front of Trott’s house. He practically ran to the door and rang the doorbell several times.

Trott was the one who answered. He smiled at Alex and pushed up his glasses before he stepped aside. Alex came into the house and followed Trott to the kitchen where his cake was on the table surrounded by a few presents.

Alex set his down next to them while Trott eyed it up.

“I think I know what it is,” Trott said.

“No guessing,” Alex warned. The outline was very obvious, and Trott knew exactly what video games and cards were shaped like, the nerd. Alex gestured at one of the gifts. “That’s a pretty big one.”

“It’s not _that_ big. I know what it is though because I gave it a shake,” Trott said proudly.

“What’s in it?”

“Legos.”

“Nice.” Alex was a little jealous, but Trott always shared things with him, so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be able to have a go at whatever set it was.

Trott’s parents came into the room and Alex watched at Trott’s mother stuck fourteen candles into the cake. He hoped it was chocolate, or at least marble. Though he knew Trott was rather fond of vanilla.

He stood next to Trott, already several inches taller. It was just a few years ago that they had been the same height. But while Alex seemed to grow almost constantly, Trott kept his short stature. It didn’t help that he was also incredibly scrawny. He really did have that dweeby look to him. But Alex didn’t care. He liked how passionate Trott was about games. Nothing like Alex’s other friends who just wanted to play football and try to nick cigarettes.

Trott’s father lit the candles and then flicked off the lights. Everyone sang Happy Birthday, and Alex knew he was being pretty loud, but he didn’t care. It made Trott embarrassed and it was excellent. Trott blew out the candles all in one go, and he was handed a knife. He cut a large corner piece for Alex and then a one for himself and his parents.

It was good, especially the thick frosting. They both were hasty in their eating, though Alex still had to wait for Trott to finish.

Finally, Trott was allowed to rip into his gifts. He opened Alex’s first and was ecstatic. He even freed the Pokémon cards from their packs and he got a couple shiny ones.

He saved the biggest box until last, and Trott’s prediction had turned out to be right. It was a Lego set. Specifically, the Star Wars 4483 AT-AT. Alex and Trott stared with their mouths open at the hundred dollar set.

Trott thanked his parents and pulled Alex to his room. They set up a card table and emptied the box onto it. Over a thousand mostly gray parts were scattered onto the table. Alex picked up the minifigs of Luke and the two Snowtroopers.

“This is gonna look badass once it’s done,” he said, looking over the little guys.

“Yeah it is. But it might take a while.” Trott spread out the directions. “We should probably put the legs together at the same time. We can each do two since they’re identical.”

“Sounds good to me.” Alex set the minifigs down and ran his hands over the plastic pieces, flattening them.

Trott began sorting, and Alex followed suit. They sat at the table for the rest of the afternoon, drinking orange Fanta and listening to Evanescence. The only break they took was when Trott’s mother called them for dinner, and after that they went right back to work. Progress was steadily made. The legs came together relatively quickly, and the body had many stacked plates and tiles. It wasn’t going to be huge, but it was still a fairly large build.

When it was approaching one AM, Trott’s mother told them to go to bed. Trott tried to beg for more time, but she wasn’t having any of it. They were forced to change into their pajamas and brush their teeth. Alex could tell that Trott was a bit embarrassed by it, and Alex understood completely. He was fourteen now. Alex wondered when Trott was going to start getting more rebellious.

Yet, they were both pretty tired. Hours of staring at tiny pieces and trying to figure out directions had taken a toll on their eyes. As soon as Alex got under the covers of the futon he felt himself falling asleep.

He woke up several hours later, desperately needing the toilet. He knew he had drank too much soda. Alex groggily got up, then proceeded to make his way to the door. The room was pitch black, but he knew the way.

He tripped over _something_ , and then smacked his hip into the side of the card table. Already on unstable legs, the table tipped, and he went with it as he tried to steady it. Legos rained onto the carpet, and he swore his heart stopped.

The light next to Trott’s bed came on, and Alex rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear them so he could inspect the damage. It wasn’t as bad as it had been in his mind, but the almost completed body of the AT-AT had come apart in several places and the head and legs had detached. It was a pretty sad sight.

He heard Trott laugh and pushed himself from the floor.

“You’re such a klutz,” Trott said.

Alex blushed, then bent to pick up the table. “Yeah, I know. Fuck, sorry though. We were almost done too.”

“Legos are pretty sturdy. I bet it’s not that bad.”

Alex set the larger pieces back into the table. The lamp was too low of a light source for him to be able to pick up all the smaller strays. “Good thing you have carpet in your room. I think it softened the fall.”

“Yeah. It also reduces the chance for them to scatter.”

“Nerd,” Alex huffed.

Trott flipped him off, but he was smiling.

“I’ll be back, just gotta take a piss.” Alex somehow forgot he had just spilled the Legos, and promptly stepped barefoot onto one.

He yelped and jumped, and that really had Trott laughing.

“Careful,” Trott said.

“Now you tell me,” Alex grumbled as he rubbed at his foot.

He shuffled to the door instead. When he came back, he thankfully remembered to the do the same thing and his feet were safe.

Until later that morning, when somehow he failed to see a rogue piece they had missed during clean up. He swore loudly, then slapped a hand over his mouth, hoping that Trott’s mother hadn’t heard. He picked it up and threw it onto the table.

Trott looked at it, then at Alex. “At least that’s a somewhat efficient way of finding lost pieces. Just walk around barefoot.”

Alex sighed. “It would be less painful to use a Shop-Vac.”

“But it’s so entertaining to see you in pain.”

“Shove it,” Alex said, but it wasn’t mean-spirited.

“It would be the perfect revenge if your brother ever does anything to you,” Trott said, eyes gleaming.

Alex tilted his head, then grinned. “Yeah, it would be, wouldn’t it? I’ll have to remember that.”


	5. Baking a dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Baking a dessert  
> Ross/Sips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There technically isn’t any ‘baking’ but there is a dessert!  
> 

Ross was in a bit of a gloomy mood. He had wanted to go to a free cooking class put on by one of the local bakeries, but Trott and Alex were both busy on the Saturday it was being held. He knew he could go alone, however he thought it wouldn’t be as fun. The three of them hardly did anything together on weekends anymore. Ross knew Trott and Alex liked to have their alone time, but would it kill them to spare him just a few hours? Especially when they’d get to learn how to make something.

He stood from his desk and went to the break room to get something to drink. He wasn’t expecting to run into Sips, who was leaning against the counter with a mug in his hands.

“Ah, hey, Sips. When you’d get here?” Ross asked. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

“A while ago, actually. I just got done streaming with Turps.” Sips held up his mug. “Thought it would be the perfect time for some after-beer tea.”

Ross smiled. “Did Turps drink a lot?”

“The usual amount. He said he had a party to go to later so he didn’t want to drink too much.”

“How long are you going to be here until?” Ross had an idea forming, but it all depended on Sips’ answer. He was prepared to be turned down.

Sips shrugged. “Probably until Sunday. I don’t have a strict schedule or anything.”

“So you’re in town tomorrow? You free?”

“Why, you wanna take me out on a date?” Sips teased.

Ross fought back the blush that threatened to heat his face. He took a long drink from the water bottle. Usually he wasn’t so affected, but perhaps because it was Sips it got to him easier.

“Sort of,” Ross confessed. “There’s this baking class that I wanted to go to…”

“Baking class?” Sips laughed. “That’s totally you, isn’t it? You like to cook, yeah?”

Ross nodded, and he couldn’t do anything to cover the tips of his reddened ears. He tried to shrug it off. “When Trott, Alex, and I lived together, I did most of the cooking. The two of them don’t exactly have the best kitchen skills.”

“I believe it,” Sips said. “I suppose I could go with you.”

“Really?” Ross’ eyes lit up. He didn’t think Sips would say yes.

“Sure, why not. I wasn’t planning on doing much else besides sitting in the hotel room and playing Hearthstone.” He set the mug down and fished his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll give Lewis a heads up that I’ll be busy.”

“It’s only for like, an hour in the afternoon,” Ross said.

“What time?”

“One.”

“Then why don’t we get lunch beforehand?”

Ross felt his lips tipping up. “Now it’s really sounding like a date.”

Sips raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Nope,” Ross said, and he knew his delight was clear in his voice.

“Cool. Text me where you want to meet and I’ll be there.” Sips pushed away from the counter and made towards the door. He opened it, but stopped and turned to look at Ross. “Does this mean I get to see you in an apron?”

Ross half-choked on his laugh, but recovered rather quickly. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

Sips gave him a wink before he left.

Ross had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. He knew he had a thing for Sips, but he didn’t think he had it this bad.

* * *

The two of them had lunch at a Subway situated across the street from the bakery that was holding the class. They sat in a booth next to the window facing the street.

“I’ve always wanted to be a Sandwich Artist,” Sips said as he unwrapped his veggie delight.

“What’s that?” Ross asked. He opened his bag of chips.

“The people here who make the sandwiches.”

“That’s not really what they’re called, is it?”

“I shit you not.”

“Huh. That’s… creative.” Ross didn’t think it would be very exciting to make sandwiches all day, but he could imagine Sips wearing the hat behind the counter, enjoying himself. He was laid back like that. And he seemed to really like sandwiches a lot.

They ate slowly since they had roughly an hour, and Ross felt more relaxed than he had been yesterday. Sips wasn’t as flirty as he had been. Ross didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Either way, he was able to have a pleasant time.

When the class was due to start in five minutes, they went over to the bakery. It was set up with a couple long tables that had stand mixers, hot plates, and utensils spread out on top. There were only a few other people there. Ross picked a spot at the end and Sips stood next to him.

The instructor greeted everyone, then explained that they were going to be making an easy version of baked Alaska.

“It’s been ages since I’ve had that,” Sips said.

“I’ve never tried it before. Is it good?” Ross looked at the table and noticed a butane torch. For once, he was happy that Alex wasn’t present.

“Yeah, if you like meringue and ice-cream.”

Ross was very much a fan of those two things. The instructor passed out sanitizing wipes for them to clean their hands, and then set a carton of eggs, sugar, and water in front of everyone. The first thing to make was the sugar syrup.

While the instructor told them the steps, Sips let Ross pour the sugar and water into the pot, then set it on the hot plate. He turned on the heat to high.

“We have to separate the eggs now,” Sips said. “You any good at that?”

Ross shrugged. “Somewhat. We can each do one and whoever does it better can do the third.”

Both cracked their eggs cleanly, though Ross’ yolk almost fell out. Sips definitely had a steadier hand than him. Ross paused to watch Sips tilt the yolk back and forth between the pieces of shell, his longer fingers somehow staying clean. The yolk was dropped into another bowl, and Sips gave him a little smirk.

Ross cleared his throat. His egg still had some of the whites clinging to it, but he plopped it into the yolk bowl anyways. Then he handed over the last egg to Sips, who took it and once again almost expertly separated it. Ross poured the whites into the stand mixer bowl.

Next they were handed a half of lemon and Ross squeezed it over the egg whites before he turned the whisk on.

“The syrup’s starting to boil,” Sips said.

“Should I turn the heat down?”

“Naw, I think it’s fine.” Sips reached across the table and sped up the mixer.

They watch it foam the egg whites, and gradually it started to fluff up. The instructor told them to look for soft peaks. While those were being made, the water in the sugar syrup had completely evaporated and it was just starting to color. The bubbles of sugar rolled to the surface where they broke apart, which meant it was ready.

Ross carefully lifted the pot and Sips shut off the hot plate. While the mixer was still spinning, gently and as slowly as he could Ross poured the sugar in. The fluffy egg whites doubled in volume and they became glossy under the bright florescent lights.

“Dang, look at it now,” Sips mused. “Looks like whipped cream.”

Ross set the pot down. He turned the mixer to its fastest speed and they watched for several minutes as the concoction became smoother and brighter. Ross wondered about its flavor and texture, wanted to know how it was on some hot chocolate. He’d have to make it at home sometime.

“Is it done?” Ross asked. “It looks pretty thick.” He realized the double meaning of his words and bit back a smile.

Sips gave him an interested glance. “Probably.”

Ross shut off the mixer and lifted the arm. He took off the whisk and hit it against the side of the bowl to get the meringue out of it. It held its shape nicely.

The instructor told them to put the meringue into the provided piping bags, and started to hand out cups of ice-cream, a simple stacked Neapolitan, along with precut pieces of chocolate cake that would be their base.

Sips held open the bag while Ross filled it up. It got a little too full, and when Sips went to twist the end, some came out and onto his hand. Sips swiped it off with a finger and popped it into his mouth.

“Pretty nice, but sugary,” he said.

Ross was mildly envious. He blinked a few times, trying to pay attention to what the instructor was telling them to do next. They had to work fairly quickly or else the ice-cream would melt. He removed the ice-cream from the bowl and peeled off the cling film. He set it onto the cake base on a plate.

“Pipe away,” Ross said to Sips.

“Got any design requests? Should I make a big old dick?”

Ross glanced at the older woman next to them. “Probably not,” he laughed. “Just go for some swirls.”

Sips piped on the meringue in different sized spirals. On the flat top he did one large one, then went back and added little dollops around the bottom. He set the bag aside when he was done.

“Looks real nice,” Ross commented.

“Now you get to do the final bit.” Sips pointed at the torch. “Light that puppy up.”

Ross turned on the torch. He got close enough to the meringue that it became a nice light brown, the very tips of the swirls going darker. It was difficult not to get carried away. The meringue turned so fast that he had to constantly back off. But when he had went around the whole outside, he took a step back to examine it.

“Great job,” Sips said, and clapped him on the back.

Ross felt a little swell of pride in his chest. It _did_ look really good. But he couldn’t take all the credit. “You did some nice pipe work.”

“They’re just swirls, nothing to ‘um.” Sips picked up the knife and pointed it at the dessert. “Let’s slice this baby.” He brought the knife down through the middle and separated the halves.

The layers of ice-cream sitting on the cake covered in the foam-like meringue were a pretty sight. Ross was transfixed by it. Sips pushed a spoon into his hand, and it brought him back to the present.

“You can go first,” Sips said.

“Why not at the same time?”

“That works.”

Each scooped up a piece and took a taste. It was an excellent blend of softness and cold, and the ice-cream melted and turned the sugary meringue into a type of cream that was soaked up by the cake. Ross didn’t even realize his eyes were closed until he heard Sips hum.

“A little sweet, but I wouldn’t mind having it again,” Sips said.

Ross could only nod. It had been so easy to make, too. He didn’t have a butane torch, but he could always pick one up.

They each finished their piece, and even offered to help clean up. But the bakery workers said they had it covered, so Ross and Sips thanked them before they left.

They walked down the street in silence for a little while. Ross stopped first and turned to Sips, his hands in his pockets.

“You gonna go back to the hotel?” he asked.

“Was thinking about it,” Sips said. He glanced at his watch. “Have anything else planned for the rest of the day?”

“Nothing,” Ross said. “I’ll probably just go home and watch some Netflix.”

A half-smile came onto Sips’ face. “Mind if I join you?”

There was no way Ross was saying no.


	6. Riding horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Riding horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got done watching Sips play hours and hours of farming sim, so that’s what helped inspire this. I don’t know what AU it would really be, so I put it down as farm/ranch. I also gave Alex’s dad a random name because I don’t know his real name. Horse names stolen from the Phantom Stallion series (because that series is still one of my favorites).

Chris first saw them at the wake. Shook their hands even, and said he was deeply sorry for their loss. And he was, too. John had been a great friend and an amazing farmhand, as well as a right horse whisperer. He could bring them in with just a type of whistle that Chris had never managed to learn. It was a shame, him dying so suddenly of a heart attack.

His two sons hardly resembled him, and they seemed out of place among John’s friends. The oldest looked like a businessman and the other just a young kid probably in his twenties. After Chris had given a pat to the casket and acknowledged the sons, he stood at the back of the room with a cup of water, listening to the rest of the people talk.

And it was a bit strange because John had been living alone all this time, no other family anywhere near. All he had were a few friends and acquaintances. The wake was small, and Chris overheard one of his neighbors talking about John’s sons. Apparently one of them was going to move into John’s house and take care of it. It surprised Chris. He didn’t think either of the men really wanted to live out here in western Nevada, miles away from busy civilization and the dazzle that was Las Vegas.

Plus, John had a couple of horses at his place. Chris bet that the son who took over would be quick to sell them. The animals would probably be miserable once they figured out their owner was never coming back. Chris wondered if he should make an offer for them. He didn’t have much, but he was sure they’d make a family with his own few. Horses were relatively welcoming creatures when they were in a good mood.

Chris also attended the funeral, which very few others did. It was unpleasant, watching someone he had known for many years, someone who was younger than him, be put in the ground. But it had been a nice day for it, and the service short.

After that, almost a week went by before the younger son showed up at his door just after supper.

“My dad had your phone number on the fridge and looked you up,” he said. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Alex. I saw you at the funeral.”

Chris took the hand. It was smooth against his own rough one. “I’m Chris. You can call me Sips, though. That’s what your pa called me.”

Alex nodded. His skin was pale, like he never seen sun. What was this city boy thinking, coming out here? Chris waited, leaning against the door frame.

“About the horses…” Alex started. He looked a bit shy, what with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders stiff. He was having trouble meeting Chris’ eyes. “My phone doesn’t get very good reception out here, and there isn’t any wifi at the house, so I couldn’t look up how to take care of them properly.”

Chris braced himself. Alex was probably going to ask where he could sell them.

“Could you teach me?” Alex finally looked him, and Chris just now noticed the color of his eyes. A slate blue, just like his father’s. “I still know how to ride. But that’s it.”

“So you can ride?” Chris drawled, and couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this kid wasn’t completely useless. Maybe he wasn’t going to be what he expected at all.

Alex seemed to perk up. “Yeah. My dad taught me years ago, and since I got here I’ve been practicing.”

“Really now?” Chris liked the sound of that. “Well, you can bring one of um over tomorrow and I can give you a rundown of the basics. Horses just take time is all.”

Alex grinned, his teeth flashing bright. “Sounds good. I’ll definitely come over.”

“Be here at five.”

Alex’s smile fell. “Five… in the morning?”

“Yup.” Chris wanted to laugh at the look of sheer despair on Alex’s face. “Horses are early risers.”

“Ah…” Alex took a breath. “Then I should sleep soon. I guess that saying about early to bed and early to rise is a real thing out here.”

“You betcha,” Chris said.

Alex left him then, and Chris was actually looking forward to the next day. But maybe he should have warned Alex to put on some sunscreen.

* * *

Chris was just finishing brushing Kitty when he heard hoof beats nearing. A minute later, Alex appeared at the barn entrance seated atop John’s buckskin mare, Sunny. Chris paused in his brush stroke, taken back at how natural Alex looked on the horse as he walked her into the barn.

Kitty looked up and snorted, nostrils wide. Chris held up a hand in greeting. Alex brought Sunny to a stop and slid down from the saddle. They came over to the large stall.

“Have any trouble waking up?” Chris asked.

“Only a little. Had some coffee though, and that helped,” Alex said. Sunny tugged at the halter, eager to get near to Kitty. “Is it okay to let her close?”

“Yeah. Kitty loves everyone, and these two have met before.”

Alex let Sunny put her head into the stall. The two mares sniffed at each other and bobbed their heads.

Alex laughed, and Chris was surprised at how much it sounded like his father’s. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

“Sure is.” Chris ran a hand across Kitty’s light brown back. “You’d know right away if they didn’t like each other.” Chris opened the gate and stepped out. He looked at Alex. “You ready to get to work?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Alex turned out to be a good listener and a fast learner. Chris covered everything he knew from his long years of owning horses, things that came so naturally to him now. Alex asked important questions and Chris gave his best answers.

They took a break around noon and sat on the porch of Chris’ house drinking lemonade.

“So is it all right to let the horses stay together in the pasture over night? I’ve been letting Sunny and Zanzibar do that for a couple days now,” Alex said.

Chris just about dropped his cup. He stopped his slow rocking and sat up. “You what?”

Alex flinched. “Is that wrong? Is it dangerous outside at night?”

Chris brought a hand to his face, rubbed at his forehead. “Shit.”

“Are there rattlesnakes out here? Or coyotes?” Alex sounded concerned. “Or some toxic plant?”

Chris took a deep breath. He eyed Alex, and his voice was stern. “There weren’t any notes lying around? Nothin’ tellin’ ya to keep those two separate?”

Alex looked confused. “Separate? Sunny and Zanzibar?”

“Those _are_ the only two horses ya own, smart one,” Chris said lowly.

Alex shook his head. “There wasn’t anything.” He suddenly looked quite dejected. “It was hard enough to find Dad’s will. He didn’t really keep any documents besides a few old letters from when Mom was still alive, and that was ten years ago.”

Chris’ anger fizzled out. He couldn’t blame Alex for not knowing. His father had died so suddenly, and no one around here had been closer to John and his horses than he had been.

“Well, you better be calling the vet just in case. She could be pregnant.”

Alex stared at him blankly. “What?”

“You don’t know her heat cycle, do you?” Chris clicked his tongue. “Putting those two together is just asking for a foal.”

Alex blushed at that. “I mean,” Alex started. He looked into his almost empty glass. Even his ears had turned red. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “You up for taking care of a pregnant mare and raising a foal?”

Alex shrugged. “Baby horses are cute.”

Chris didn’t know whether to laugh or swear. Damn kids. “Look,” he said. “Foals are serious business. Hell, horses in general are serious business. There are no breaks. You ready for all this?” He didn’t want to seem like he was trying to talk Alex out of it, but he cared about the animals. He’d known them since John had first brought them over a couple years ago after his old mare had passed. The look on the man’s face as he held a halter in each hand was still clear in Chris’ memory. “I don’t wanna preach to you, because that’s not what I like doin’, but I don’t want ya to get in over your head is all.”

Alex sat quietly for a moment, staring out into the flat plains where Sips’ own horses were grazing.

“I can always buy them from you,” Chris offered. “If ya wanna go back to the city, return to how you were livin’ before. You know I’d take care of um.”

“I know,” Alex said. He looked back at Chris. “But this is something I want to do. It’s going to be hard, yeah, but I made up my mind.”

A hot breeze swept across the porch and ruffled Alex’s bronzed hair. Chris stared at his face, how unlike his own it was without any lines or dark spots, only a few light freckles. How would that face change over the years if indeed he was serious about this?

“All right,” Chris sighed. “I believe ya.” He drained the last of the lemonade from his glass. “I’ll help in any way I can, of course. I want ya to succeed.”

Alex brightened, and he was like the sun coming out after a storm, the way his eyes shined. He was his father reborn, Chris thought. That same determination was in this kid. Maybe he had what it took to be a real cowboy. It made his heart ache.

Again it was quiet between them for a little while, both lost in their thoughts.

“Do you really think she’s pregnant?” Alex asked, breaking the silence.

Chris shrugged. “Probably not. She seemed pretty well behaved. A horse lets you know when she’s in heat.”

Alex nodded slowly, then he smiled. “Is it bad that I really want one now? A baby horse I mean.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s a foal. Call it a foal. And yes, it’s selfish of you. What are ya gonna do if you get one? If you can manage to find Sunny and Zanzibar’s papers, ya could probably sell it for a nice price.” Chris found himself smiling as well. “Those two _would_ make one fine heir.”

Alex drew a sharp breath. “There’s no way I’d sell it.”

“You say that now, but after a few months ya might get bored of it.”

“Never,” Alex said.

Chris didn’t know why, but he believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just??? really love horses okay


	7. Nail painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Nail painting  
> Trott/Smith/Ross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a few of my sister’s nail polishes. I sure don’t wear it. I bite my nails.

Trott started with something that wasn’t very noticeable: just a clear top coat. Specifically, Nutra Nail High Gloss Top Coat. He came into work with it on, feeling somewhat nervous that it would be pointed out right away. But neither Smith nor Ross seemed to pay any attention to the way the florescent lights reflected off his nails. Trott was highly aware of it, and he had _thought_ that this little test wouldn’t go unseen. Obviously he had been mistaken. It gave him a bit of confidence.

The next day he switched to essie luxeffects in the shade pure pearlfection. It was a semi-translucent white shimmer that really only was noteworthy in a brightly lit room. Which he was sat in on that Tuesday at his desk, in charge of their stream. Smith and Ross hadn’t mentioned anything, so Trott took it that he was in the clear.

Until Smith got up to get another drink. For some reason, he went out of his way to stand behind Trott’s chair and hovered for a moment. Trott knew he was there but continued to play the game, the fingers of his left hand working the wasd keys, his right on the mouse. The seconds slowed and ticked by, and Trott felt himself starting to sweat. Smith didn’t do anything, but Trott knew that he had to have realized what was on his nails. If not, why would he still be behind him? It set Trott on edge, and he straightened a little, suddenly wanting to hide the fact that he had his nails painted. He curled his fingers as much as he could.

Smith finally left him, although it failed to make Trott calm any. Ross was saying something to him, repeating his name, and he shook his head, refocused. The time while Smith was gone was strained. He thought that when Smith got back, sat down in front of his mic and put his head phones on, he’d tell the viewers what he had discovered. Or maybe he’d go over to Ross and joke about what he’d seen. Trott had to stop his thoughts and remind himself that _he_ had made the decision to wear the polish to a public space, a room he shared with two others, and so he should expect some amount of detection eventually.

Trott held his breath as Smith entered the room. Though, nothing happened. Even when the stream was over and it was eight o’clock, still nothing happened. Smith and Ross told him goodbye, that they’d see him tomorrow in the morning for their recording session. He was left alone, wondering if he should proceed with this or not.

He decided to go for it, and when he put on Revlon 732, Rebel Graffiti on Wednesday, he did indeed feel quite rebellious. The black and white spots of varying sizes was matched to white T-shirt and dark wash jeans he wore. He kept it simple for now. No need to come in with bright yellow on his nails just yet.

This time, Ross was quick to point it out. Trott expected it.

“Is that paint?” he asked, pointing at Trott’s hands. “I thought you painted your house a couple weeks ago?”

Trott laced his fingers together, not really looking at Ross. “It’s a special kind of paint called nail polish.”

“Oh,” was all Ross said after a moment.

Smith had heard. Trott knew he had, though he made no move to come over from his desk or make a comment. Trott glanced at him, and his eyes met Smith’s just for a second before the man was blinking away, concentrating on his computer screen.

Trott bit his lip. He didn’t know if Smith was giving him the silent treatment out of contempt or something else. He was incredibly hard to read at times.

But recording was the same as it had always been. Ross and Smith made their usual jokes, and Trott tried his best to relax. There was no more mention of the polish for the rest of the day.

On Thursday he spent a while thinking about whether or not to go through with it. It was true that he could probably get away with blacks and whites and sheers and shimmers until he died, but those weren’t fun. He had on an ashy gray sweater, and the square bottle of Maybelline Express Finish sat on his dresser at almost eye level. The color was 720, decadently called Red Caviar.

He picked up the bottle and gave it a good shake. Trott unscrewed the cap and carefully brushed the dark red over each of his nails. It was quick to dry, and he covered it with Claire’s matte no shine top coat.

He held out his hands and just stared at them for a minute. A small part of his brain told him to get out the remover and wipe them clean, but he refused. He was allowed this. There were no rules that dictated what he could or could not adorn himself with. Let others secretly gossip amongst themselves in disapproval. He was going to work with this nail polish on.

And somehow, Trott almost made it the entire day without a comment from either Smith or Ross. It was too good to be true, and years of spending time on the internet had trained him to listen to himself if he felt suspicious when something was turning out this well.

They had just wrapped up the stream, and it was seven o’clock. He and Smith were supposed to go to the gym. Trott had brought a bottle of remover and some cotton swabs with him, because as much as he had confidence to wear it to work, he wasn’t ready to go into the world with it on. So he sat quietly at his desk while the other two shut everything down.

Trott was just about to unscrew the bottle of Cutex when Smith and Ross came over to his corner. Instantly he felt boxed in. He gripped the bottle, wanting again to hide the nails he had convinced himself were all right to have painted. Two pair of blue eyes stared down at him, and he forced a tight laugh.

“Can I help you guys with something?”

Smith reached out, and Trott flinched. Smith paused, but then took Trott’s hands and uncurled them from around the bottle. Smith then lifted them up. He looked attentively at the nails, and Ross stepped closer so he too could see.

Trott squeezed his eyes shut. The inevitable would surely come, he told himself, and he was ready for it. He was ready to make up a lie, even though that was the last thing he actually wanted to do.

“They look good,” Smith said.

Trott opened his eyes and he could make out the softness in Smith’s features, the acceptance that wasn’t forced. It was clear and bright, and Trott felt something in him ease.

“Red really is a nice color on you,” Ross added. “Especially this dark shade.”

“How come it’s not shiny?” Smith asked. He turned Trott’s hands from side to side. “It has a kind of dull frost on it.”

Trott swallowed, then found his voice. “It’s a matte coat.”

“Matte. They make lipstick like that too, don’t they?” Smith released Trott’s hands.

“Yeah…” Trott folded his hands in his lap, not really knowing what else to say. His heart was unbearably loud in his ears.

“Were you going to take it off?” Ross motioned at the bottle of remover.

“Ah, well yeah, since we’re going to the gym.”

Smith clicked his tongue. “Screw the gym. Why don’t we go out eat instead? Ross can come along too.” He grinned wide. “I’ll pay.”

Trott shrugged. He grabbed the bottle. “I should still take it off-”

Smith smacked the bottle out of his hands. It fell to the floor with a dull thunk.

“Nope,” Smith said, and pulled Trott to his feet. “You can wear it for a couple more hours.” He laced his right hand with Trott’s left. “It would be a waste to not get a full day’s use out of it, especially when it suits you so well.”

Ross took the other. “If anyone gives you strange looks, they can answer to us.”

Their palms pressed warm against his own, and Trott couldn’t recall a time when he had felt more accepted than he did right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a real big thing™ for Trott looking pretty and getting support from his boys.


	8. Catching insects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Catching insects

Alex was just settling down to have a lengthy afternoon nap. The window of his room was open, and in came the late spring breeze, with it the promise of summer. There was something calming about letting fresh air carry through the house. Outside was quiet.

He had just closed his eyes when there came a particularly loud shout from somewhere in the house, followed by his name being called by Ross. Alex sighed, and then forced himself out of bed. This better be important. He padded down the hall to the living room.

Ross was cowering on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Alex walked over to him and looked up as well. There was some type of brown bug flying figure eights, refusing to land.

“You have any idea what that is?” Ross asked. “I was sitting here, minding my own business, and it flew out of nowhere and smacked into my face. It was horrible.”

“And you called me because…?” Alex yawned. He wanted to sleep, dammit, not deal with Ross and his mild entomophobia. At least the insect wasn’t a spider or a wasp.

“To get rid of it. You’re the one who opened all the windows, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not _my_ fault there’s no screen on the living room one, now is it?” Alex crossed his arms.

Ross pursed his lips. “I’ll get around to fixing it eventually.” His eyes never left the ceiling. “For now, can’t you just kill that thing?”

“That seems needlessly cruel. It isn’t doing any harm.” Alex could honestly care less about some weird shaped bug flying around. It’s not like it was poisonous or anything. It probably didn’t even bite.

“It touched me with its gross little bug hands,” Ross whined.

“Take it as a compliment. It probably finds you attractive.” Alex smirked, and Ross swatted at him. “I’m gonna go take my nap now.”

“Smith, please. I’ll,” Ross paused. He chanced a glance away from the bug for a moment to look at Alex. “I’ll cook you breakfast for a week.”

Alex seriously considered the deal. He _did_ really like Ross’ breakfasts, when the man actually got around to making them. Ross always went big, and out of all three of them he was the best at making pancakes and bacon.

“Fine. Deal.” Alex extended his hand and Ross shook it. “Watch it for a sec.” Then he went to go find some sort of net.

He remembered there being a bright green kid’s one out on the porch somewhere because they had used it for a video a while ago. After some digging he found it. The holes in the mesh were probably small enough so that the bug wouldn’t get out.

When he returned, Ross had moved to the other side of the room but he was still watching it. The insect had landed on one of the blades of the ceiling fan.

Alex stood on the sofa and made a swipe at it, but he missed and the insect dropped down onto the coffee table before it took off again, heading straight for Ross. Alex chased after it while Ross scrambled to get out of its path.

It turned out to be pretty slow moving, and Alex easily caught it in the small net. He told Ross to get a paper plate and he put that under the net to carry it outside. Once in the backyard, Alex took off the net and examined the bug.

He’d seen them before and recalled it being a sort of shieldbug. Its rounded arrow shaped back was shiny in the sunlight, and it had metallic bronze patches on the head. It waddled along the paper plate until realizing that it was free, and took off.

Alex came back inside. He noticed that Ross had shut the window.

“So, what time can I expect breakfast to be served?” Alex asked with a grin.

“…Eight-thirty.”


	9. Mixed drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mixed drinks  
> Sips/Ross/Trott/Smith  
> Rating: M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it again with them big boys and sips and food and alcohol and hotel rooms, because that’s apparently the only thing i write anymore.

Sips unlocked the hotel suite and made straight for the king sized bed where he promptly fell back onto it. “Damn, this is the good life,” he said, and stretched.

“It _is_ really nice,” Trott said.

Behind him, Alex and Ross set their luggage down and walked around the spacious room. The sofa thankfully had a pullout, because as much as they’d all love to sleep in the same bed, fitting three grown men plus Trott was a bit difficult if they wanted to be comfortable. They would still try it, of course.

It was spontaneous, but Sips had always wanted to go to France. And what was better than taking Ross, Trott, and Alex along to make it a weekend holiday? Valentine’s Day was fast approaching, and even though Sips wasn’t the biggest fan of the holiday he still wanted to do something special for the boys. So, he had booked a room at one of the best hotels in Cannes, one right near the harbor where luxury yachts were docked.

The weather was perfect, and Trott went to the sliding doors to the balcony. He opened them and the warm gulf breeze flooded into the room.

“We gonna go get lunch?” Alex asked.

Sips lifted himself from the soft mattress. “What you feeling up for?”

“It has to be seafood, doesn’t it?” Ross said. “Since we’re right next to the sea.”

“I could go totally for some lobster,” Alex agreed.

Sips looked at Trott and the man nodded. “Anything is fine by me.”

“It’s settled, then.” Sips took out his phone to call them a cab.

The rest of the daylight hours were spent wandering the city, and when night had finally fallen, Sips took them to a liquor store. They bought far too much, but that was only because Sips had told them this was a no-beer night.

“You must want us to get incredibly sick,” Alex said as he readjusted the heavy bag of various alcoholic drinks and other supplies in his arms.

“You’ll be fine,” Sips assured him. “Just pace yourself.”

“What if we want to get proper pissed?” Ross asked. He was in charge of carrying the blender that they had bought. They couldn’t exactly make good mixed drinks without one, now could they?

“Ross, it only takes about three margaritas before you start to get giggly,” Trott reminded.

When they were back in the hotel room, Sips set about ordering them room service. He did so in flawless French, and Ross, Trott, and Alex silently stared at him as he fluently told the desk what he wanted. When he hung up, he raised an eyebrow at them in question.

“That was… surprisingly hot,” Alex said.

“I forgot that you knew French.” Trott lined up their alcohol and plastic cups on the table, then plugged in the blender. “When did you learn it?”

“Back in school, which was ages ago because I’m old as fuck.” Sips gave a loud, dramatic sigh from his spot on the sofa. “Enjoy your youth while you have it, kiddos.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Trott laughed. “How many years you got on us? Eight? That isn’t _too_ old.”

“A millennial like you wouldn’t understand,” Sips sniffed.

“Technically,” Ross said, “you’re a millennial, too. Google says the start year is 1977.”

Alex grinned. “Who’s the filthy millennial now?”

“Stop ganging up on me,” Sips whined. “Trott, you’re on my side, right?”

“Do you want me to answer that truthfully?” Trott asked. He went over to Sips and sat down next to him. “Because I don’t think you’ll like the answer very much.”

“You’re all such ungrateful bastards.” Sips swatted at Trott’s shoulder.

Trott leaned against Sips. “You still love us.” He put a hand on Sips’ knee and smiled. “And you know we _are_ grateful that you spoil us like this.”

Sips hummed. “I was just messing with you.”

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the room service, and Alex answered it. He pulled in the cart that was filled with plates of burgers and salads, and a few buckets of ice. Ross started to make the drinks, and first up (at Sips’ request) were piña coladas. And then came the margaritas and the mojitos.

When Alex tried to sneak a swig of the tequila, Trott caught him and had to forcibly remove the bottle. He tried to put up a fight which consisted of complaining that the drinks were too fruity and reiterated that they were going to make him sick, but Sips was having none of it.

“Can’t you behave?” Sips pulled him down onto the sofa, and Alex landed half on Ross’ lap, which almost spilled his sixth margarita. “Trott and Ross are being good.” Sips set down his cup, and then he poked a finger into Alex’s chest. “It’s always _you,_ isn’t it? You’ve got the biggest mouth out of everyone and you constantly run it.” Sips smirked. “Forgive me for sounding cliché, but I think you should put it to better use.”

Ross laughed at that, and pushed Alex’s shoulder. His face was red from the alcohol. “Go on, big boy. Suck him off.”

“Now that’s something I’d like to see,” Trott said. He was probably the least drunk out of all of them, but he had had his fair share of drinks.

“Go on, Smiffy.” Sips palmed at the front of his jeans. “Put on a little show for us.”

Alex stared at Sips for a drawn out moment before he slid onto the floor. He waited until Sips unzipped his jeans and brought himself out. Alex took the length into his mouth and sucked. Sips curled a hand into his hair.

Ross had the dopiest look on his face, and Alex had to close his eyes or else he was going to start laughing. He went for loud and messy, and every time he came up he made sure to pull all the way off before he went back down as far as his throat would let him. He knew it wound Sips up, especially when he took a quick break and tapped the head against his lips.

Out of all three of them, Alex knew that he could make Sips come the fastest. He chalked it up to experience and eagerness, but it also helped that his mouth was indeed large. In no time at all he had Sips swearing and tugging at his hair in warning. Alex stayed put and swallowed everything Sips gave him.

Alex sat on the edge of the coffee table, catching his breath.

Sips smiled at him, eyes heavy. “Now go get yourself a drink.”

Ross raised his cup. “Margaritas go good with salt.” Then he laughed, and Trott couldn’t resist joining him.

“He isn’t wrong,” Sips said.

Alex rolled his eyes, but went to go make one. And this time while the blender was running he was able to get in a few shots of tequila without being noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have you heard Sips speak French??? I can attest to it being incredibly hot


	10. Picking berries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Berry picking

The first time Alex had seen Chris Trott with a mouth full of blackberries was when they were just kids. They’d been over at Alex’s grandparent’s, spending a week out of the city. The house was a fairly comfortable building sitting on a nice chunk of land that included a small woods. And that’s where they enjoyed the end of the summer before school started again –outside, running through the thick brush, getting scratched up and bitten by mosquitoes.

Alex remembered chasing Trott across a stream, and on the other side there were several patches of blackberry bushes, their dark fruits hanging ripe. They’d picked handfuls, staining their skin purple, making it look like they had gotten into a bruise inducted fight. The berries were sweet, and the warmth of the air made Alex want to take some back and put them over ice-cream. Trott stuffed his cheeks and when he chewed the juice slid past his lips and down his chin where it ended its journey on his red shirt, leaving behind dark spots.

That image had stayed with him, though Alex didn’t quite know why. It resurfaced when Trott came home from grocery shopping on day when they were all still living together, complaining about how long it had taken to check out, but also praising the sales. Alex leaned on the counter, watching Trott unbag the food he had bought. Berries were in season, and Trott had gotten a whole variety of them, including blackberries.

Alex popped open the plastic container and picked one out. It was quite large, much larger than the wild ones they had picked all those years ago. He placed it in his mouth.

“You’re supposed to wash them first,” Trott said. He closed the container, then put it in the fridge.

Alex shrugged. “Tastes fine to me.” It was a nice flavor, but not as good as he had thought it would be. It wasn’t as saturated as the others had been that time. He wanted to ask Trott if he remembered. Instead, he said, “We should pay my granddad a visit one of these days.”

“In this heat?”

“Take a walk around his property. Ross can come too.”

“Again, in this heat? Just thinking about it is making me sweat.” Trott made a face.

“Come on, Trotty, it’d be fun.” Alex gave his best smile. “We can try to find our old fort.”

Trott stared at him a moment. “That’s long gone by now.”

“Probably, but it would be nice to see if we can find the place where it was.” Alex did want that too, but he more so wanted to see how far the blackberry bushes had spread. There had to be loads by now.

Trott sighed. “Fine, we can make a weekend trip out of it. We’ll ask Ross when he gets back…”

“Sweet.” Alex drummed his hands on the counter in quick succession.

Trott held up a finger, and Alex raised an eyebrow. “But only if you admit that the real reason you want to go is to pick blackberries.”

Alex laughed.


	11. Eyeglasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Eyeglasses  
> Alex/Trott

“You know,” Alex said, “I kind of miss that you don’t need to wear glasses anymore.”

Trott briefly looked up from his computer. “Why’s that?”

“Because you look really good in them.” Alex smiled. “Especially the big red ones.”

There was a pause between them, and Trott raised an eyebrow. Alex watched him pull open the drawer below the keyboard and take out the glasses in question. He held them up and looked through them, then wiped at the lenses with his shirt. He put them on.

Alex’s smile grew. “You can see proper in those, yeah?”

“They aren’t prescription. I wear them once in a while for cosmetic purposes.”

“You mean when you want to look cute?” Alex didn’t exactly mean for that to slip out, but he didn’t take it back.

Trott tilted his head. “I don’t know if cute is the right word…”

Alex clicked his tongue. “More attractive, then?”

“Still not quite it.”

“Trott,” Alex drawled. “Don’t be like that.”

Trott just gave him a somber smile and a shrug. Alex knew all about how Trott compared himself to his friends in terms of who was better looking. He always put himself down, gave himself last place, as though there was some competition. It was unfair of him, really. He’d been doing it for years now. He could try to brush it off as a joke all he wanted, but Alex knew that Trott really believed he was lesser in the looks department.

“With or without them, I like how your face is,” Alex tried. It didn’t sound quite right, though. “I mean, if you had the option to change yourself completely and you did, I’d be mad about it.”

“How flattering,” Trott said. He took off the glasses and folded the temples in and out, over and over. “I’m okay with how I look, really.”

“I’ve known you for like, sixteen or so years. I can tell when you’re lying quite easily.”

Trott huffed. “What would I gain by lying?”

“I don’t know, some sort of reassurance? It doesn’t matter.” Alex ran a hand through his hair. He met Trott’s eyes. “Just know that either way you’ll always…To me, you’re fine. More than fine.” Alex turned away, suddenly feeling very awkward. He swallowed. “But I do really like the glasses,” he said, then made a somewhat hasty exit.

It’s not that he was trying to run away exactly, but for some reason it was embarrassing to talk seriously like that to Trott. No matter the amount of years he had known Trott, he still had a hard time communicating genuine topics without making them into some sort of joke.

And even though he had said Trott looked good the way he was, seeing him in those glasses again had been _really_ nice. Maybe later he could drop another hint that he wanted Trott to wear them more often. It was selfish, but Alex thought that he was generally a pretty selfish guy, especially when it came to Chris Trott.


	12. Ice fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ice fishing  
> Sips/Ross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one in the same universe as ‘Hotel Coffee’ because it works. I’m just using that AU for any time Sips and Ross are together on vacation. Maybe that makes me lazy.

“I knew you were taking me to Ontario… but fishing isn’t exactly what I thought we’d be doing,” Ross said. He watched Chris pull on a second pair of well-insulated pants.

“What, would you prefer to go moose hunting?”

Ross frowned. “Of course not. It’s just that I thought this vacation was going to be like when we went to Japan. Do some sight-seeing and shopping, spend time in the hotel. That sort of stuff.”

Chris smiled and bent to lace his boots. “Canada is nothing like Japan. Plus, it’s winter here. There isn’t much that we can get to because of the snow.”

“But fishing… really?”

“It’ll be fun,” Chris assured him. “Now, get dressed. It’s cold as hell out there.”

Ross sighed but put on as many layers as he could.

Chris’ phone rang and the man answered it. He talked to his friend that was going to be letting them use his hut out on the ice. Supposedly it was a decent one, and Chris’ friend was leaving a whole bunch of stuff there for them to use for the day.

Ross liked fishing, but he didn’t know how sitting in front of a hole in the ice was going to be any fun. Plus, what was the point of it if Chris didn’t even eat fish? Ross zippered his coat. He _could_ still say no, but this was Chris’ home, where he’d been born and lived during his childhood. The least Ross could do was humor him for a while. Until he got too cold.

Chris finished talking and ended the call. Once they were done bundling up, they headed downstairs and outside where they got a cab to take them to Lake Nipissing. Ross was sure Chris would slip in some joke about the name of it, but he didn’t. The car ride was short, what with them being so close to the lake already. They were dropped off at Marathon beach, and it was all walking from there.

Thankfully Chris’ friend’s hut out on the ice only took fifteen minutes to get to. Ross was starting to sweat under his thick clothes, although his face was freezing because of the cold wind.

Inside the hut was a nice break from being outside, but it was still chilly. It was a simple square, with three holes lined up along a side wall. There were a couple chairs, a large cooler, and a few different tackle boxes on a fold out table on the other side. There was also a bucket with a seat on it that looked suspiciously like a make-shift toilet. An ice auger leaned next to the door.

Chris found the gas heater and turned it on. “There,” he said. “It’ll be warm in no time.”

Ross peered at one of the holes. It was frozen over, but the sheet seemed thin. Chris rummaged through the boxes until he found a hammer and brought it over. He broke the ice on each hole, then took off his gloves so he could scoop out the pieces.

Then he set Ross up with a pole. He even put the minnow on. Ross took it, thinking that it was pretty neat how tiny a pole it was.

“Just drop it down until it hits bottom, then give it a few reels in.” Chris watched as Ross did just that. “Keep a finger on the line so you can feel when you have a bite.”

Ross nodded. He pulled a chair closer and then sat. It was quiet in the hut. Soon Chris joined him, a pole that matched his own in hand. But on the end of it was a jig. Chris stood next to him at the other hole and went to work. Unlike Ross, he had to keep the jig moving.

“We didn’t bring any lunch,” Ross said. It was only nine, but they’d had a relatively light breakfast at the hotel.

“We can head back into town for it. I didn’t know how long you’d want to put up with this for.” Chris paused in his reeling to look at Ross. “Three hours is probably enough time in the cold, anyways.”

Chris said that, but inside was starting to warm up. Ross was fairly comfortable, actually, though he longed for some music. The heater behind them made a low humming noise. The morning light came in bright through the windows. There was a homey feeling to the shack.

Ross felt the line between his fingers give a tug. He had forgotten that he was holding it. When it did it again, he pulled up sharply, then started to reel.

“You got one on?” Chris asked.

“I think.” Ross paused and waited. There was a definite pull at his line. “Yeah, pretty sure it’s on there.” He continued to reel until the fish was at the top of the hole.

Chris helped him lift it out. “Damn, that’s a nice looking walleye.”

“Is it big enough?” Ross asked.

“Yeah, for sure.” Chris unhooked it, then took it over to the cooler. He came back with a new minnow. “So, how was it, catching the first fish?”

Ross shrugged. In truth, he had been somewhat excited when he was bringing it in. He hadn’t even had to work for it. “It was okay.”

“I can get my buddy to fry it up for you later tonight. We can go to his house, if you’re up for it.” Chris released his pole.

Ross smiled. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dad is obsessed with ice fishing. If there’s ice on the water, he’ll be out there as many times as he can.


	13. Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Babysitting

“It’s just for a couple hours, max,” Sips said. “Probably even less than that.”

Lewis glanced across the room at Sips’ son, where the five year old sat in front of the television. He’d come over to the island to spend the day with Sips because the man had said he’d be free, but somehow he’d forgotten a doctor’s appointment for his daughter. Lewis tried to tell him to just reschedule it, but Sips insisted it was an important one because she was getting a few shots.

“He’s easy to watch,” Sips tried. He adjusted his daughter on his hip. “He’ll probably be glued to the TV.”

Lewis gave a sigh. “All right, fine, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks.” Sips gave him a quick clap on the shoulder. “Be back soon.”

Sips left the house, and Lewis stood a bit awkwardly next to the sofa. He guessed he might as well play a phone game to pass the time. He sat down and just retrieved his phone from his pocket when Kurt turned around and looked at him.

Lewis offered a smile. Kurt glanced around the room. “Where’d daddy go?”

“Ah, he’s taking your sister to hospital quick, don’t worry.”

Kurt seemed to think this over for a moment, then turned back to the television.

Lewis unlocked his phone and was about to load Hearthstone when Kurt turned around again.

“Can we play Mario?” he asked.

There _was_ a Wii set up along with some games on a shelf next to the television. Lewis remembered how a while back he had played the Super Mario Maker courses that Sips had made with his son, and honestly it had been a really fun time.

“Sure,” Lewis said. He got the game set up, then sat cross legged on the floor next to Kurt. “Do you know how to use the controller?”

“Not really.” Kurt shook his head.

“All right. You just tell me what to do, then.”

Lewis choose and placed the items that Kurt instructed him to. There didn’t seem to be any sort of plan with the layout of the course; it was inspired solely by whatever items the boy liked the look of. Lewis tried to reason with him a few times, and once it worked, but generally Kurt wasn’t having any of it. The map was his own almost unpassable monster, though Lewis was sure some pro out there would be able to beat it in under ten seconds or some crazy shit like that. There were a _lot_ of spike traps to avoid.

They were so into creating elaborate and nonsensical courses that Lewis didn’t even notice how the hour slipped by. The third course was halfway done when Sips and his daughter returned home.

“I see you’ve found a way to distract yourselves,” Sips said.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. It was Kurt’s idea to play.”

Sips stood behind them. “That’s a lot of spike traps. I don’t think anyone is going to be able to get over that pillar.”

Kurt pushed at his father’s legs. “Spikes are the best.”

“You should see our other maps,” Lewis said. “They are riddled with spikes.”

“I’ll have to try them.”

“Good luck,” Lewis laughed. “They are almost impossible.”

“But you have to be able to beat them yourself in order to publish them.” Sips took the controller offered to him.

“That’s why we put in a few secret routes to avoid everything.”

“Classic.”

With encouragement from his son and Lewis, Sips attempted to beat the levels. It was an entertaining and frustrating several hours.


	14. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Valentine’s Day  
> Flower shop AU because why not.   
> Ross & Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what im even doing anymore. my writing major is clearly showing in this, as is my love for Whitman and fuckin lilacs so it’s all ooc but happy valentine’s none the less.

Holidays were guaranteed to be busy and Valentine’s Day was one of the top profit days. Ross had received a shipment of mainly roses late last night, and so he opened his shop an hour earlier than usual on the fourteenth. As soon as he unlocked the door it only took a few minutes for the first customers to arrive. After that they were a steady stream that he struggled to keep up with. He even missed lunch.

He was the only one running his small corner store, had been for a few years now. He didn’t have the variety that others in the area did, but Ross was fine with what he sold. A lot of work was put into making arrangements and he wasn’t nearly as pricey as competitors. Also, he strictly sold flowers and a few different types of vases. This was more of a part time business than anything and he found no need to expand. It suited him well and fulfilled his passion as a florist.

The afternoon was in full swing when finally there was a break in customers. Ross took the opportunity to momentarily retreat to the backroom to retrieve the sandwich he had brought. He didn’t close, though. Instead he sat behind the counter and ate as fast as he could. The lull was only temporary, after all. Only a couple minutes had passed before a tall, bearded man came in with the chime of the bell above the door.

Ross was busy trying to swallow, so he just raised a hand in greeting. The man gave a nod back. Ross watched him look at the different types of flowers on display and in the refrigerator. He passed right by the roses, and Ross wondered what he was after. He knew some people disliked roses, but he had been selling them all day that it was slightly surprising to see. Ross finished eating and waited patiently for the man to make his choice.

Except no choice was made. It seemed that the customer was having quite a difficult time deciding. Ross brushed crumbs from his apron and went around the counter. He slowly approached the man with a smile.

“Can I help you with anything?” Ross asked.

The man shrugged. His eyes were the same steely blue as Ross’ own, and their heights almost identical. Really, this guy was ridiculously handsome, if Ross was being honest.

After getting no verbal response, Ross tried again. “Are you looking for something specific?”

Again, another shrug. “I kind of just came in on impulse. Since it’s Valentine’s and all.”

Ross nodded. He knew a lot of people felt obligated to buy flowers. “Is there someone you’d think would like flowers?”

“I think he’d appreciate them, yeah.” The man looked at a multicolor assortment of carnations. “He doesn’t have a favorite or anything, though.”

“Thanks fine,” Ross said. “If you don’t want to go with roses, I’d recommend an arrangement that has a mix.” He walked around the table to where said arrangements were. “This one has a pink orchid in the middle surrounded by white daisies and irises. All the colors are very soft and kind of melt together.”

“It’s nice.”

“And next to it is one of my personal favorites. Lilacs and multicolored tulips. It’s pretty spring-like and smells amazing.” Ross tapped the glass vase. “Most people don’t really pay attention to flowers’ history, but it’s fascinating.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “History? Like origin stories?”

“Yeah,” Ross said. “A lot of meanings have changed over time of course. People always associate red roses with romantic love and white ones with purity, even though early tradition had white meaning true love.” Ross huffed a laugh. “Lilacs are far more fascinating.” He stopped there, wondering if he was rambling and possibly boring his customer.

“Why?”

Ross hesitated for a moment, but continued. “There’s Greek mythology associated with them, and the Celtics thought they were magical because of how strong they smelled.” Ross glanced at the man. “There’s something almost alcoholic about their scent when they first bloom in April.” He put his hands into his front apron pocket. “Have you ever heard of Walt Whitman?”

“Think so, back in school. He was an American poet, right?”

“Yup. He wrote this long poem called ‘When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d’ that uses lilacs as a symbol for life after death… which is a little more exciting than everyone saying the light purple ones are for first love. Though I guess there’s nothing wrong with that either.” Ross didn’t know how to take the somewhat blank look the man gave him. “Sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I get a little carried away. It’s not often I get to talk about these things.”

“It’s fine.” The man gave him a soft smile that made him look far too attractive. It didn’t help that he was surrounded by colorful flowers. “I think you sold me on them. Lilacs would be nice to have around the house for a few days. Better than roses.”

“Do you just want a bundle of them? I can make one up quick.”

“Sure.”

Ross collected some from the fridge and took them to the counter. He picked out a white ribbon and tied them neatly together, then wrapped the stems up in a waxy, textured paper.

The man took out his wallet but Ross pushed the bouquet at him. “It’s on me.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“You listened to my long winded drivel, it’s more than fair.” Ross pushed again. “Besides, I’ve made more than enough money today.”

“If you’re sure.” The man took the lilacs.

Ross nodded, then grinned. “I hope your partner enjoys them.”

“He should. If he doesn’t, I can tell him they’ve got magical properties. He’s big into that kind of stuff.”

Ross leaned against the counter. “Good luck,” he said.

“Thanks.” The man lifted the flowers. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

It caught Ross off guard. He bobbed his head. “I’ll be here.”

“Cool.”

Ross watched him leave, and the shop fell into silence. He was a little disappointed in himself that he didn’t ask for the man’s name. Though maybe it was for the best, since he did have a partner after all. Yet, he still couldn’t help but hope to see the man again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really dig this au and my mind is already coming up with ways to continue this send help


End file.
